The Heartsmith
by Mirai Akina
Summary: A lone girl selling hearts. A heartsmith able to repair the hearts of others. One guy with a broken heart. A chance encounter that fulfills not one person's wish, but two people's wish. This is their tale. Mild pairings.


**Hey guys! I'm having an idea overload...meaning I'm on a writing spree. And so, it's time to further explore a pairing! Tiz and Agn** **ès** **is one of my favorite pairings, and when I read this story...I thought about how sweet it would be if I replaced the characters with Bravely Default characters. This is an AU fanfiction with no connections to the main story whatsoever (though there are some parallels). And so, my readers, enjoy! Be sure to leave comments!**

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Bravely Default or the characters. Plot belongs to** **Miyuli/Julia K and her comic strip on her tumblr page** **.**_

The tiny town market was swarmed with passing blank faces. Brown flowed up and down the stone river, and on occasion, one would step away from the crowd to pick up a produce from the numerous, nameless stands.

In a tiny corner of this market, a lone girl dressed in red clutched the basket of glowing red hearts in her arm. Her vibrant shine, just as beautiful and exclusive as the hearts in her basket, clashed with the dull standard world around her. The only thing that blended with her surroundings was her hair, but even that held a texture unfamiliar in the sea of commoners. She flicked a lock of her hair away from her face before grabbing one of the many exquisite hearts in her collection.

"Would you like to buy a heart?" she asked.

The village girl flashed a pure white smile in an attempt to attract more people. "I have quite a few beauties to offer." But even with her vivid composure and her sweet, soothing voice, she was ignored, the aristocratic top preferring to follow the flow of the market rather than to halt the steady progression it has worked so hard to maintain.

One stranger with an elaborate pompadour glanced once at the red-clad girl, and she made sure to make eye contact with him. "Sir! Would you like to buy a heart?" she called. The man stopped in his tracks. He shook his head, but he leaned closer to the girl.

"Do you also happen to repair broken hearts?" he desperately asked.

The seller of hearts looked up to the man. "Oh, no! I just sell hearts...umm…" The gentleman bowed. "Ringabel, miss." She smiled and gave a short curtsy. "Agnès, Agnès Oblige. Nice to meet you, Mr. Ringabel." The nicely-dressed man hung his head down once reminded of her answer to his question.

"I see."

Not wanting to see this man with such a sad, almost desolate frown, she pointed across the street. "But if you go down that road, you will find the heartsmith." Ringabel was confused.

"Heartsmith?"

Agnès merely nodded and Ringabel humbly bowed in gratification. "Thank you, Agnès." She merely smiled. "You're welcome, Ringabel."

Following her advice, he walked down the stone pavement to one of the many brick buildings lining the lively street. At first glance, the front resembled an average bank, but on a gold plaque above the door read the word, "Heartsmith."

He knocked once on the door, but it groaned open upon his tap, and Ringabel shoved the door away. The store was untidy; the shelves were cluttered with antiques of different origins. A young man wiped his forehead as he observed the bright red heart on an artistic mantle. His goggles reflected the warm glow of his craftsmanship. Ringabel knocked again, muttering "Um, excuse me…?"

Upon hearing the tiny bell and the stranger's voice, the heartsmith muttered, "Huh..?" Seeing the gentleman at the door, he gave a brilliant grin. "Oh, a customer!" The young man lifted his work goggles and approached his customer. "Welcome, sir! What can I do for you?" His smile was infectious, and Ringabel returned his smile. "A young girl told me you repair hearts?"

The heartsmith hit his chest once, letting a small breath of air. "Yup, that's what I do! My name is Tiz Arrior. Pleased to meet you." Tiz extended his hand. Ringabel took the outstretched hand and introduced himself.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" Ringabel only reached inside of his pocket and pulled out a broken heart, one ready to snap in two. Tiz leaned forward, examining it closer. "Oh boy, this one looks pretty damaged." The older man slumped in defeat. "So you can't repair it?" Tiz shook his head vigorously.

"I didn't say that! It might just take a while." His response did nothing to assure Ringabel, as his posture retained its slightly-hunched state. "That...might be a problem."

The heartsmith caught on immediately, and he elbowed his customer. "Are you planning on getting married?" Ringabel heartily flushed at his question. "Yes, actually." Running a hand through his hair, he offered his congratulations, but Ringabel shared eye contact with his broken heart. "However, as the wedding grows nearer, I find this heart incapable of loving…"

The hand on his brown hair went to grip a few strands. "I can see how that would be a problem. Well, I suggest you leave it here for a while." Tiz backed up, relying on his work desk for support. "I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best!" Still clutching his damaged heart, Ringabel once again let out a small smile slip.

"Thank you." And with that, he gently placed the heart into Tiz's calloused hands. "Take care of it, Tiz."

"Of course. I don't know when it'll be ready. Just drop by whenever it's convenient for you."

Ringabel offered his affirmation and headed out the door.

With the seller of hearts, she continued to advertise her batch of hearts to the faceless strangers around her. But when she spotted Ringabel in the immense crowd, she waved once to him. He offered a wave back in exchange.

Days have passed. The scenery remained unchanged, and Ringabel once again knocked on the wooden door of the heartsmith, this time carrying a gifted box in his hands. "Hello! I'm sorry for bothering you today as well." Tiz tilted his head back from his work, lifting his goggles in order to see more clearly. "Oh! It's you, Ringabel!" The gentleman raised the hand holding the box.

"I brought cake."

The cake was a simple strawberry shortcake from the local bakery, but Tiz enjoyed the sweet taste of the pastry. "It's delicious!" he exclaimed. Ringabel chuckled, sipping a cup of tea Tiz recently made. "I'm glad you like it," he replied. The heartsmith flushed at his behavior, and he wiped the crumbs off of his lips.

"Ah, my bad. None of my customers have ever bought me cake."

The engaged man waved his hand, pardoning the young worker. "It's the least I can do for someone who is repairing my heart." Tiz shifted in his seat upon hearing Ringabel's last three words.

"About that…"

Ringabel's back stiffened at his drifting sentence. "Is there a problem?" The heartsmith crossed his arms, leaning back into his seat. "Well...some vital parts required for the 'love' function are missing." The civil mood was good, replaced with a fog of dread.

"I see...So I will never be able to love my fiancée?" And under his breath, he whispered, "She deserves better." Tiz kept a straight face, but his hand went to his left sleeve, gripping the fabric into his fist. He had to do more! He couldn't bear to see such a sad expression on a nice man like Ringabel. His compassion wouldn't allow it.

"I will fix it for you!" he impulsively cried, shocking the older man.

His hand went to his chest. "There's still something I can do." What he didn't expect was for Ringabel to jump up and grasp his hands. "Thank you, Tiz!" The heartsmith looked away, a light blush on his cheeks. "Don't mention it. I'm happy to help a kind person like you, Ringabel."

They exchanged a few more pleasant words. Ringabel looked at the watch on his arm, noting how late it has become. "Well, Tiz, I will visit you again tomorrow." The heartsmith waved at his retreating back.

"See you tomorrow, then!"

He followed the man's form slowly integrated itself into the river of passing humans until it was nearly indistinguishable. He raised his right hand over his heart, which is now glowing a faint red hue on his chest.

"Will it be enough?"

 **A few days later…**

Tiz proudly presented the fully repaired heart to his customer. While a scar was imprinted in the center of the fragile object, the bright glow disguised this quite well. Ringabel grasped his heart, smiling a genuine grin at his regained emotion.

"You did it, Tiz!"

"Of course! I told you I'd fix it, didn't it?" he boasted. Ringabel cradled his heart back into his chest and was overcome by the pumping of pure love his repaired heart began to beat into his blood.

"It's amazing. I can feel my heart overflowing with love." Tiz gripped his shirt, close to where his heart is. It always pleased him that he could bring such joy to his customer's heart.

"Really? That's great!"

Ringabel adjusted his bowtie; the glow of his heart has now dimmed down. "Yes, I'm sure my fiancée will be happy."

"Who is your fiancée?"

"Ah, a member of a prominent aristocratic family. Her name is Edea."

As Ringabel went off into his own fabricated world of a happy life with his Edea, Tiz solemnly looked away and muttered, "Oh...I'm sure she will…" In the midst of his newfound joy, Ringabel grabbed the younger man's shoulder. "I hope to see you at my wedding?" It took Tiz a while to process this, but when he did reply, it came out slow and tentative.

"...Of course."

…

The sun has set in the village, and Tiz had not managed to move from his cluttered work space ever since Ringabel's departure. He felt his heart's beating grow slower and with more strain. How long until his compassion killed him?

Agnès, the heart seller, cried out as soon as she walked into his shop. "Poor Tiz!" At her pitiful shout, Tiz acknowledged the woman dressed in red, flashing a smile as pitiful as her desperate sentence.

"Why do you always share pieces of your own heart with others?" She asked cautiously.

The heartsmith chuckled. "Look who's talking, Agnès! How come you sell hearts, even though you don't have one of your own?" he shot back. She turned from his gaze pouting. "Because none of these hearts fit me," she childishly replied.

"I see…" He let out an indescribable laughter at the woman. "Then...maybe…" Tiz pulled out the remainder of his small heart. "Would what's left of this heart fit you?" he offered. Agnès was speechless, for who was she to accept such a kind heart? Nonetheless, Tiz was adamant on giving her his fragile heart.

"You're giving me your heart?" She couldn't help but ask.

The heartsmith nodded wholeheartedly. "Yes. If this one is alright with you?" The heart drifted over to the woman's cupped hands, and she felt his love, his emotions run through her body. Agnès was almost in tears, and she jumped in Tiz's arms.

"Thank you, Tiz!"

…

In a hospital bed, with the window curtains pushed aside by the light breeze of the outside world, a lone brunette sat up, flipping through the last page of her book. A knock scattered the calm surroundings, and the girl adjusted herself.

"How are you doing today?" asked the doctor. He bore a striking resemblance to Ringabel, but his eyes were more tired, more accustomed to seeing failure, despair, and hidden hope. The girl greeted the doctor.

"Tomorrow is your big day. You're lucky that we found a donor for your heart in time, Agnès." The doctor, named Alternis, clutched his chest, feeling the healthy beats of his heart. The girl, Agnès, looked away from him.

"Yes, the heartsmith is very kind."

The doctor was curious over who is this heartsmith. "Uh, who?" Agnès huffed, sliding down to cover herself more into her blanket. "It's OK, people don't remember him. Even those he helped." It wasn't until her last sentence did she then hold her book closer to her frail body. And on the cover of her book shone a lone red heart, brighter than the most precious ruby on the Earth.

"But I will always remember him."

 _Fin._

 **A.N. The original story is so touching...If anyone could find the original artist (yes, it was drawn in comic form), I would greatly appreciate a private message, so I can place credit on its rightful owner. Come check out my other Bravely Default work,** _ **Bravely Second: Lower Ends**_ **if you happened to enjoy this fanfiction. Or visit my other stories. As for now, however, this is tale end.**

 **Updated A.N.: I would like to thank Monolaymoo for finding the original source.**


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